


Toy Soldiers

by queennymerias



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), call of duty black ops cold war
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28711098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queennymerias/pseuds/queennymerias
Summary: None of it was truly real. Everything was a product of the carefully constructed lie that Russell Adler had weaved to trick you, and it felt wrong to even think of it as anything but. The dull ache behind your eye made you place a hand over it as though that would stop it, but you know better. It’s another reminder of Adler’s cruelty; of using your unsuspecting mind to do as he pleased and you should hate yourself for it. For not seeing through the lies; for not questioning your false loyalty to Adler.But more importantly, you should've hated yourself for allowing those feelings for him to remain.Russell Adler/F!Reader (Bell).
Relationships: Russell Adler & Bell, Russell Adler/Bell, Russell Adler/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since Perseus is technically a whole organization, I'll refer to the head honcho as 'The General' since he wears that coat with the ranking of a general it seems. It's easier that way. Anyway, this game was released back in November and I'm still not over it. Anyway, this is technically a one-shot but I split it into two chapters. Kudos and comments are always welcome! <3

It was the exhaustion that hit you first. 

Not long after that, the weariness within you began to take hold as you struggled to stay awake -- fearful of what would happen should you surrender yourself to sleep. The months of the stress of pursuing a wanted man always left the nights restless as you laid there completely and utterly too wound up to even attempt to close your eyes. So on nights like these, you would lie awake to keep count of each noise you heard within the safehouse, almost as if you were expecting the members of Perseus to walk through that door at any given moment. Tonight should've been like most nights, but these past few hours proved that the only easy day had been yesterday. 

Following the extraction from Cuba, you made the tough decision to leave Lazar behind in favor of hooking Park to your cable. You should've been silently mourning the stern but gentle man, but this night had other plans for you. Hours had passed since MK Ultra had been revealed to you in a last ditch effort to get you to relive memories you never knew you had. All this time you believed a lie that had been constructed for you by the CIA only to find those memories you had didn't belong to you. You were a trespasser to them even though you sought refuge in what they offered. More times than you could count you often replayed them in your mind before sleep, making yourself miss the "good old days" of serving alongside the best men you ever knew. That had been a lie as those weren't your memories to keep. They were merely a construct to offer you a false sense of security and belonging in order to slowly but surely coax the truth from you. 

_You should have known, comrade._ **His** voice echoed in your mind as you rapidly swung your legs to the side to move off the cot. _Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you._

"Too late. I already know that." You muttered to no one in particular as you made your way out of the room you shared with Helen Park. You were eager to be alone -- truly alone-- and away from prying eyes and eager ears. 

You sought sanctuary outside the safehouse, choosing to let the cold crisp air keep you awake. Germany wasn't foreign to you because prior to being stationed here with the CIA and their allies you had found yourself here many a time to gather what intel you could. That much you remembered outside of the false ones that had been living in your mind for the past few months. Slowly they were returning to you, but would all of them find their way back after being wiped clean? You exhaled then as you found it hard to even think of it so casually. How could you ever think to fall asleep after everything that happened? Being tied down to a gurney, having the needle of a syringe stuck directly into the back of your eye, and nearly dying apparently left you feeling more exhausted than you had ever been before. It should’ve been so easy to fall asleep after that.

But how could you when the wheels were turning? When everything that seemed like a loose end was suddenly being tied together, making sense when before it had no place in the puzzle. The memories didn’t feel real; the dull suspicion throughout your time with the team felt as though you were on the outside looking in, and somehow it was so easy to dismiss it all back then. Your background raised a few eyebrows when Adler brought you on the team, but naturally, you found a place among them. Months with them felt like a lifetime, and Adler didn’t even have to lift a finger to drive that home for you to believe. 

It was always there -- lurking in the contours of your mind that forced your brain to believe those memories had been real; to force you to see what he always wanted you to see. It was a seamless plan, and you were all but a tool. A toy soldier who allowed herself to be wound up and pointed in the next direction without question.

The palm of your hand met your forehead in one good smack, hoping perhaps that this was all a dream and you would awaken to Adler telling you it’s time to leave. 

_We got a job to do._

The repetitive phrase was something you assumed to be his annoying catchphrase, but knowing the origin of it suddenly left you feeling violated. It was so easy to ignore the feeling of being lied to then. Perhaps it was because you’d always known there was something terribly wrong, and maybe you didn’t want to believe it. Not when it implicated him -- Russell Adler. 

He made it seem so easy then; lying to you and not showing any indication that he was. He had a dangerous charisma that rivaled your former colleague with a hint of coolness in his tone that suggested you never bothered him with your curious inquiries. His signature aviators often hid his eyes from your view but you could always see past the amber lenses as you looked right into his eyes. Most of your skills carried over post the brainwashing, but your ability to read people apparently did not. Nothing in his demeanor or his actions suggested otherwise. 

Maybe you just didn’t notice it then because you were so desperate to believe there was something there hidden just beneath his many layers. His defense of you to anyone who didn’t believe in your abilities suggested as much, but maybe you were being naive. Maybe you should’ve known. 

“Can’t sleep either?” 

You turned your head and saw that Russell had stepped outside to where you were as he pulled out a cigarette to place in between his lips. You didn’t say anything but instead averted your attention to look up at the night sky. You could hear him shift his weight from one foot to the other as he stuck his hand in his coat pocket to find his lighter. It was a familiar habit of his; one that you picked up on in many instances where he seemed to be thinking to himself. It was perhaps a tactic he learned from the CIA to make persons of interest less suspecting of his true intentions, or maybe it was one of the many things you'd come to learn about the man. You suddenly tore your gaze away to look up at the cameras instead, and you shook your head as you rolled your lips together, finding it hard to not be on edge. They've probably been on you the moment you left the safehouse because apparently, you weren’t to be trusted even though you had disclosed Perseus’s true whereabouts to them. 

The flick of a lighter brought your attention back to the man standing beside you and you found that his calm demeanor began to upset you as he calmly smoked seemingly unaffected by what he had done earlier. 

“We’re gonna have to talk eventually.” Russell turned to you as the smoke slipped past his lips to curl into streams in the night air. “Ignoring me is just going to make things difficult.”

“You really expect me to be the same after what you did?” You replied coolly, watching him tilt his head slightly at the tone in your voice. “Using me to further your agenda.”

His look remained hidden behind his glasses as he puffed on the cigarette again. “Don’t act so high and mighty. It’s not like you.” 

You scoffed at him then. “You never really knew me.”

“On the contrary, I think I have a pretty good understanding of just who you are, _Bell_.” His lips curled once more around the end of the cigarette as his gaze lingered on you. They stayed on your form even as he pulled the cigarette away to blow out the smoke you had gotten so used to. “You got some of my memories -- mainly of Vietnam, but you also gave me a bit of yourself. All of your fears along with your likes and dislikes, well, they’re all in here now.” He tapped a finger to his temple to emphasize his point. “You think I like having to resort to what I did? I’ve added it to the list of shit I had to do for the greater good. Trust me, kid, I don’t take any pleasure in it.”

The irritation laying dormant in you suddenly began to rise at the use of the nicknames. ‘Bell’ and ‘Kid’ -- two terms of familiarity that went beyond acquaintance the entire time within his company. It brought you back to all the times he said those names, making you remember his tone whenever he did. It was often warm, but not overly so that it would make you feel uncomfortable. No, where it was meant to be used in friendly terms your feelings had warped them to have a deeper meaning than what it was. The false memories of Vietnam only intensified them as you thought back to fighting by his and Sims’s side. You remembered what it felt like the first time Russell had said it to you, and the way your heart skipped made the feelings spring forward. You felt silly now as another thought slithered back into your mind of the movies you would see without anyone else's knowledge; remembering how fond you were of the black and white American movies and the attractive couples on the screen. 

Even prior to MK Ultra being revealed to you, you would often think back to them. It should've been strange to have it brought up now, but perhaps his presence invoked what you didn't want to remember. 

That's when you should’ve realized it. 

Not long ago, a memory that wasn’t part of the ones of the war played out almost like a dream one night. Of Adler passing you a glass of his favored drink and you happily downing it in one shot while he told you a tale you hadn’t heard before. It could’ve been made up for all you knew, but you enjoyed being in his company; enjoyed taking part in this familiar camaraderie that so many experienced. 

But this time it was different.

Whereas Russell always had his aviators on he suddenly slipped them off and tucked them into his coat pocket before he looked over at you. It was brief, but back then you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of something behind his eyes. At the time you didn’t know it, but looking back on it now it was easy to recognize it as regret. The sudden sensation beginning to pool in your belly intensified when you thought back to when you handed him the glass and of how his fingers gently brushed against yours. It caused the heat to rise in your cheeks at the action, and you hoped he hadn’t seen it, but somehow you knew he must have. Why else would he have filled your glass only to hand it back to you once more with a small ghost of a smile? Even the way you both were seated in that memory left you second-guessing his feelings. Especially when you realized that one of his arms had been casually resting upon your shoulder as he finished his story none the wiser. 

Whether the memory had been real or not left many questions unanswered. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be, Bell?” His question broke through your reverie as you looked up at him again. “You staying silent when we finally go after Perseus?”

“My name is not _Bell_.” You quipped while rising pushing yourself off the side of the wall. “I’m sure you know what my real name is. If so, start getting familiar with it, Adler. I’m no longer your little pet project.” 

One of Russell’s eyebrows lifted up in surprise while he took one last drag from his cigarette. He was doing it again. Staring at you as though he didn’t know quite what to make of you. You hadn’t done a complete 180, but this new personality surfacing wasn’t what he was used to. You weren’t always Bell -- the good little soldier who did as she was told without leaving much room to question orders. You had personality then sure, but this? Your sudden demeanor was very much new to him.

Finally, after a moment of scrutinizing you, Adler drops his cigarette to the ground and takes a sudden step forward. The move didn’t surprise you as you thought it would. “I let you stay on the team despite Hudson’s warnings. I could've easily handed you off to him and the CIA.”

“For what? Aiding and abetting the US Government in war crimes?” 

“You were doing war crimes long before we saved your ass on that tarmac.” 

His comment stung more than it should have, but regardless you made a move to brush past him only to be stopped by his hand reaching out to grab hold of your arm. The action caught you off guard as you looked at him -- eyes demanding an answer as his grip tightened. Russell was a man who didn’t mince words, choosing to express exactly what was on his mind regardless of who he offended in the process. From the time you spent with him, you knew he often picked his battles when he knew his words would carry some weight, but for the first time, he seemed at a loss to do exactly that. Why should he have his reservations? Everything was already out in the open and there was no going back. Perhaps though that’s what he regretted. 

It was a fine line he was tip-toeing, you knew it as well as he did. His demeanor said it all at this moment. You could’ve pulled away at any given moment and yet you didn’t find the urge to. He should’ve been reprehensible in your eyes and for good reason, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lash out. Not now, not when he was treating you differently than he had before. You were no longer ‘Bell’-- _his_ ‘Bell’-- this controversial toy soldier that would’ve raised eyebrows outside of the CIA. No, you were an entirely different woman who happened to wear the same face Russell had grown accustomed to. 

Gently, his fingers relaxed their grip as he slowly released his hold on you. Fingertips that should’ve been calloused from years of hard and grueling work seemed softer to the touch. You repressed the shiver that threatened to expose your softer side as those digits traced their path down your arm. You blinked as though coming out from a trance as you stepped past him all the while feeling his gaze follow your movement. 

It wasn’t fair; Russell shouldn’t have such a hold over you. 

The stuffiness of the garage which operated as the safe house left a lot to be desired. Back then it hadn’t bothered you as much, but now you suddenly longed for the cold Russian winters you never knew you missed. 

Hudson, who had for some reason decided to stay behind, lingered against the desk that sat in front of the office. His eyes, also hidden by aviators, followed your brisk walk as though he was looking for any excuse to shoot you dead on sight. You paid him no mind as you made your way towards the room you had called yours for so long. 

“What happened?” 

His question would've gotten your attention had it not been for Helen Park emerging from the hallway, and so you kept walking as you chose to ignore him. The look on your face made her brow furrow in sympathy and perhaps regret though it wasn’t odd by any means for you had gravitated towards the woman during the last few months. Her eyes went from you to look beyond your shoulder as you heard Hudson and Adler conversing among each other. No doubt the topic the two men discussing were about you. 

"All is well I hope?" She said, frowning when you shook your head and chose to remain quiet. "Right, I figured as much." Her tone was sympathetic -- something she just started showing as she realized you had saved her life, sacrificing Lazar in the process to pull her out with you. Helen was the only one to offer an objection to Adler's plan of forcing the memories he implanted to emerge, but her warnings did little to deter him. How could she stand by and allow him to do that to the woman who saved her life? Even she had little authority over him, but you should've known that from the conversations you two shared. 

"Bell-"

"That's not my name." You fixed her with a stern look while looking out of the corner of your eye to find Adler watching you from his. "You know it too I'm sure."

Helen's lips pulled into a tight smile as she looked away. "Of course I do. It's quite lovely I might add."

Normally you would've played along, but you were in no mood. Not now, not when so much was at stake. The only thing motivating you now was stopping Perseus from exacting out their plan. It's all you could do when you didn't have enough of a backbone to defect and avoid this whole situation before it got out of hand. Maybe you didn't want to for you had grown accustomed to your general's praise on jobs well done. It wasn't as if you were his only right hand, but you were perhaps the only one who was given much more when the rest were given minimal tasks. It was probably the reason why Arash had tried unsuccessfully to snuff you out. The damned fool -- even if you did at times question your general and Perseus as a whole prior to this identity crisis, you still would've never given that man an ounce of ammunition to use against you. Your long-standing rivalry with him was a tale for another time though. 

Gathering your thoughts, you looked directly at Helen until she was forced to meet your gaze. An emotion you couldn't quite place was beginning to overcome her features, and because she was much like Adler in regards to keeping her true feelings in check it left you trying to guess what it was. From what little you could tell, it seemed she was beginning to feel somewhat guilty over having taken part in Adler's idea of using MK Ultra, but much like with him, the realization of being lied and manipulated forced you to remain on your guard. It didn't matter if Helen showed you simple kindness throughout your time together, she was still someone who couldn't be trusted. Maybe along the way, you could reach a place where you could forgive her for everything. 

Today was not that day.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Adler. Learn my name, I'm not Bell anymore."


	2. Chapter 2

The story behind you and Arash Kadivar’s rivalry began nearly a decade ago. 

He was forced to associate with Russian double agents in regards to keeping his own interests in play. He had to shake hands with characters of all different walks of life, but for some reason, you and him never quite got along. It would’ve been easy to say it was because you were a woman in a high ranking position within Perseus; many would’ve jumped to that conclusion without knowing the facts. It would’ve been so easy too, but that was not the case. Your association with the organization began years earlier than him which granted you more trust than your general at the time was willing to afford him. That got him angry but you didn’t care at the time. You brushed it off as his ego being too large to fit inside that tiny body of his. 

Arash and you never got along except when you two were in the presence of the others. It always bugged him that you never did react the way he wanted, but you were too closely associated with the general and the organization as a whole to afford him any attention. Even if you had your sudden reservations about Perseus and their goal it didn't matter, for you hid those feelings well enough that no one suspected anything different. 

So you thought. 

The general loved to bring up that line about “keeping your friends close and your enemies closer” and perhaps you should’ve done that. However, you were far too preoccupied with your responsibilities to Perseus that you never saw Arash’s glares and the meaning behind them. In turn, you couldn’t prepare yourself for his bullet that would embed itself in your belly. What had been Arash’s hasty attempt at offing you had unknowingly put you in the path of Russell Adler -- starting this chain of events. He was dead now, and you should thank the Americans for that. Arash’s impatience proved to be his downfall while also serving as your glimmer of hope on surviving the bullet wound. 

“She’s doing it again.” You didn’t react and instead chose to listen to see what would transpire. “She’s getting that far off look in her eyes. Almost like she’s picturing Adler’s head on a spike or something.” Well, he wasn’t so far off in that idea. 

The two men sat across from you in the control room of the fleet. The large ship sat stagnant on the open waters as preparations were being made to depart for the island and it wouldn't be long until you set out one last time with this team of yours.

Both of them looked right at you while making no attempt to hide it as you saw Alex smirk. “Or maybe she’s wondering how much effort it would take to shove you overboard.” 

“Yeah, right." Woods scoffed. "You can’t kill me.” 

You looked away from the window and caught the eyes of Frank Woods who looked more than pleased at your sudden attention. His demeanor around you hadn’t changed which seemed to be a good thing despite the fact you should perhaps hold some ill will towards him too. Then again he hadn’t actively taken part in your brainwashing but was merely an onlooker who didn’t question it. At least as far as you knew. Woods was an open book -- he never took care to hide his true feelings on any matter and allowed his opinions to be known regardless of who he was talking to. He was cordial with you despite his brash attitude at times, but he made the missions you two would go on together much more bearable. At the time, Adler hadn’t mind but you often felt that he preferred to be the one to accompany you at all times. 

“Nah I think she can take you, Woods.” Your eyes flickered to Alex who greeted your look with a small smile of his own. 

Alex Mason was an enigma. Whereas Woods was easy to assess, Alex never gave you that opportunity. He spoke little but his eyes always seemed to be shifting -- ever mindful of his surroundings. You had picked up on it once or twice but said nothing to no one. His guarded look gave way that he was hiding something but you never could place your finger on it. Looking at him now, his eyes were kinder -- understanding peculiarly as though he knew what it felt like to be used and manipulated. Almost as if he too was brainwashed at one point while his control was taken from him. 

“My ass she can.” Woods retorted while giving you the once over as his eyes turned to Alex. “She’s as green as they come, and who knows? Adler’s little protege program probably made her soft.” 

Your attention returned to him in one quick movement before you calmly held up a hand to put four fingers down save for the middle. That got the old man to laugh as Alex shook his head at his friend. 

“Why are you so concerned with what I’m thinking about?” You finally asked once his laughter died down. 

Woods rolled his shoulders while placing one leg over the other as his ankle settled on top of his thigh. “Need your head in the game for this that’s why. We’re finally here despite all the shit we went through.” He then leans forward keeping your gaze solely on him. “Gotta make sure you’re not planning on putting a bullet in our skulls when we least expect it.” 

“We could always find out.” You offered with a teasing tone as he leaned back into his seat seemingly satisfied with your response regardless if you meant it or not.

You pulled your lips in while Alex merely offered you a look hoping that it was enough to reassure you that they didn’t think differently. You didn’t take it at face value; they were as much toy soldiers as you were in this entire operation. You got the feeling they never really had any place to question their orders, and why would they? They were getting paid to pull off missions no one else could. It was almost similar to your time with Perseus except for the fact that your beliefs in the organization were genuine and true -- at least for a time.

Heavy footsteps entered the area the three of you were in, and from around the corner, Jason Hudson appeared with his usual look of indifference. That turned into a scowl though when you swore his eyes landed on you. His reservations regarding the program succeeding and you obeying orders was common knowledge to everyone aware of it. Hudson was a logical man who dealt with every scenario imaginable, and who was to say you wouldn’t go behind their backs and betray them? Hudson seemed prepared for it but neither of you shared any words upon leaving the safehouse.

“Woods, Mason.” The man held up a folder to their eye level to catch their attention. “Report to Adler to go over the details of the mission.”

“Can’t you put a slideshow on like you did at the Pentagon?” Woods asked as sarcasm laced his words. The two never did get along which was probably what you and he shared in common.

“Don’t test my patience.” 

Alex clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and gestured his head towards the door before giving you one final smile. Your eyes caught his gaze -- your look was one of apprehension as your eyes darted from his to Hudson’s form in one fluid movement. He merely returned your look with a sympathetic smile as he led himself and Woods out of the room and through the door Hudson had come in from. 

Your breathing quickened when Hudson made no move to follow them out. Instead, he took Woods’s seat across from you as he reached out to hand you the folder. It took you a couple of seconds to register the fact he didn’t pull a gun on you, and you warily took the manila folder from his grasp. He didn’t say a word. He merely watched you with those eyes hidden behind a pair of shades as he remained cool and collected. 

Your hand ran over the familiar blue cover of the folder, remembering memories that were never your own. Of how you and Lawrence found this piece of intel back in Vietnam and how finding it had been a win for the team. Adler had said as much, and back then you had no reason to doubt him. When you decide to open it you’re immediately greeted with your own face staring back at you. Your information was all recorded on paper; everything from your birthday to relatives was documented for whoever reading it to see. You swallowed a lump then as you read of your involvements with Perseus dating back to a decade at the very least. Everything in exact detail as though they were memories pulled straight from your mind.

You bit your lip then as your eyes shot up to Hudson. 

He didn’t react to your sudden stare, choosing instead to fold his arms in front of him. “The moment Adler suggested using MK-Ultra I advised against it. I said there were too many problems that would arise -- too many liabilities that could bring the CIA at the forefront. He assured me he had the experience to control the asset the way he wanted that would be beneficial to the government.” He gestured to the folder in your shaking hands. “Imagine my surprise when he came to me with that folder. It was all we needed, but Adler wanted more. He was sure he could use you to lure them to Perseus’s whereabouts.” 

“I don’t remember...saying any of this.”

Hudson’s impassiveness remained perfectly in place. Cool as an ice cube. “MK Ultra was an experiment that the CIA conducted to force confessions out of persons of interest through mind control. Naturally, that would involve the use of certain narcotics to achieve the results of the experiment. Most subjects won't remember going through the process once their mind has been altered in such a traumatic way.” His tone was stoic throughout his brief explanation, but you noticed his demeanor slightly changed. 

Though his face and tone didn’t give anything away, his posture changed when he leaned forward with his arms resting upon his knees. It was something akin to pity; pity that you had to be subjected through such means but it was almost reserved in a way. He couldn’t allow himself to empathize with the enemy, and at this very moment, that’s exactly who you were to him. 

“Why tell me all of this?" It was an innocent question but you needed to know the sudden reason behind Hudson's motives. Months prior you were nothing but a nuisance to him; a ticking time bomb that would prove more trouble than you were worth. Despite your successful missions with the team, he always made you feel as though you were an outsider. "I know you don't exactly hold me in the highest regard."

"I don't," he agreed, and when he finally turned away from you to look out the window you could see a crack in that facade of his. The corner of his eyes tried to hide the obvious regret of a memory long ago. "But regardless of what side you stand on, having your mind manipulated beyond your control is a worse hell than any torture you go through." 

His words struck a chord with you. Despite the little love you held for him, you suppose out of the rest of them you could always count on Hudson to deliver the hard truth no one wanted to hear. He was perhaps used to being the bearer of bad news, and unlike others, he didn't relish in delivering it. In fact, he probably held regrets that he knew he could never make up or forget, and that had to be the worst feeling in the world. He was tough, but he was tolerable because out of everyone in this so-called team he had the guts to give you the awful truth whether you wanted it or not. You couldn't trust him completely, not yet, but this wasn't over. Not by a long shot. 

He suddenly stood up and without another word made his way towards the door, and when you followed his movements you weren't surprised to find Adler walking in. The two men shared a look -- no words having to be said as the man walked past him leaving you alone with the man you had come to hate. Though hate was a strong word, was it truly what swirled in the pits of your stomach whenever you saw him much less thought of him? The thought of the memories come rushing forward -- not yours, never yours -- of the moments in Vietnam when he showed you a side of himself he rarely did outside of you and Lawrence Sims. Of the gentle pat on your thigh; of the rough fingers squeezing the flesh there through your thick cargo pants as he roused you from the short but satisfying naps. His face, so carefree and devoid of the stoic frown he often wore, greeting you as you blinked back the sleep from your eyes while he hyped you up for the next assignment. It was wonderful and you wanted so desperately for them to be real, but none of them were truly real. Everything was a product of the carefully constructed lie that Russell Adler had weaved to trick you, and it felt wrong to even think of it as anything but. 

The dull ache behind your eye made you place a hand over it as though that would stop it but you know better. It’s another reminder of Adler’s cruelty; of using your unsuspecting mind to do as he pleased and you should hate yourself for it. For not seeing through the lies; for not questioning your false loyalty to him, but more importantly, you should've hated yourself for allowing those feelings for him to remain.

"The team is getting familiar with the island as we speak." Russell's eyes land on the folder in your open hands, but he made no move to question it as he stepped up to the window to peer out. "We're getting close to departing from the fleet. Just waiting for the fuel teams to ready the helicopters." He leaned back then and turned to you. "It is Solovetsky, right?" His tone suggested a lie had been given to him even though you went through the horrors of running around like a mouse in a maze for him and his damn information. 

Your nose wrinkled at his assumption. "And I would lie to you now because?" 

He turned away from the window as he leaned casually against it while taking the time to adjust his sunglasses. "Anger, embarrassment, hatred." He turned to look at you. "All of them justified emotions in wanting to lie to the people who gave you a second chance."

You scoffed. "Your arrogance never ceases to amaze me, Adler." When you tossed the dossier onto the table behind you, you made a move to stand up from your seat while keeping his attention solely fixated on you. A small ounce of pride swelled within you as you noticed him give you the quick once over before his eyes returned to yours. "Even now you question me when you've already taken all you could." Your hands settled on your hips as your features matched his. 

Hudson telling you the truth reinforced your feelings of betrayal in regards to Adler, and even though some other feelings threatened to surface you wouldn't allow them to. You couldn't let him win even if he already had. You told them the truth of where to find the bombs in part because the memories of your doubt regarding Perseus had revealed themselves. For years you had suppressed them in the name of the greater good and believing that what they wanted to accomplish was what you wanted too. It was easy to feel that way when the general made it seem as though that was the way things _should_ be. He made his promises sound so enticing as though they were the absolute truth of what Russia could be with the right puppets in place as Perseus pulled the strings from the shadows. You were seduced by the notions -- wanting what he promised. You hadn't been lying when you made the comparison of Adler's charisma matching his; the two men were enemies and yet they were cut from the same cloth. Both doing whatever was necessary for their own greater good. The only thing that separated them in your eyes was the fact that Adler knew some means couldn't be justified; millions of lives sacrificed for no reason except to send the wrong kind of message. 

Russell remained unaffected by your words, but whether that was from the guilt you didn't know. "Look, I'm not gonna stand here and give you empty apologies. I know what we did was shitty; inhumane maybe." He took a step towards you as your hands fell from your hips, noticing the space he had closed with just one step as you realized how close you were. "I try to rationalize what I did so I can sleep a little bit better at night but it doesn't work. Bell, you have to understand what you did wasn't anything minor. We make it on time, we disarm those bombs, and you're a hero. Millions of people will have their lives thanks to you."

"I don't care about the millions who'll sleep better without giving a shit who saved them."

"If that's really how you feel you're more than welcome to warn Perseus." Russell suddenly pulls the satellite radio off his vest and holds it out to you. Eyes boring a hole through yours as you struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "Give him a call. I'd love to have a chat with him personally."

Your lips parted at his words not knowing if he was serious or not, but when he pushes the radio into your chest your hand suddenly reached up to clutch his wrist. Your fingernails dug into the exposed skin as you kept your eyes locked -- neither of you wanting to be the first to look away. It's in this moment the tension from before returns, except it's anything but unwelcomed. Your free hand reached for the radio in his as you pry it from his grasp; all the while making sure his gaze stayed on yours. His free hand grabs your elbow and his fingers are once again a gentle and soothing touch compared to the way you're holding his wrist. You want to push him away, maybe give him a slap, anything to push the feelings you held for him down for fear that they could overwhelm your senses. Russell is all too aware of what he does when he pried his wrist from your hand and it falls to his side as his other keeps a firm hold on you. 

"I could've said Duga." It was all you managed to say and that was because you wanted him to believe you. 

It was pathetic to see yourself come undone by the man who caused you so much pain in just a short period of time. 

Russell’s grip faltered as his thumb settled into the crook of your elbow. “You didn’t though.” His tone was filled with the familiar warmth a part of you missed. “Because no matter how much you hate me right now, you know you did the right thing. Sometimes we try to force ourselves to feel what we’re supposed to be feeling to justify our actions.” You wiggled your arm from his hold -- his words hitting you the way you never expected them to as you looked away. It was a constant conflict since all had been revealed to you; a war raging from within as your true self clashed with the one Russell had crafted. Your ideas and feelings often aligned with hers as the emotions resurfaced despite your ability to try to suppress them once more. 

No matter what you told yourself, you knew that it would take more than sheer willpower to overcome the aftermath of the mind control. It would take months -- perhaps even years to undo what they did and from the way, Hudson described it there didn’t seem to be any chance of the subject being completely themselves after it was all said and done. 

You had a long way to go before you could ever go back to that state. 

Russell’s hand reached out then, hesitant at first before his fingers lightly gripped your chin to turn your gaze onto him. His thumb was settled just below your bottom lip as it took all you could muster to not give in. “I really do like you, Bell.” You felt his thumb then press against the corner of your mouth; the action alone caused you to shut your eyes at the action that shouldn’t have been so intimate. 

It brought you back again to the moments before everything unraveling and suddenly you found yourself wanting to reverse time. To a place where it wasn’t so complicated despite the numerous missions you found yourself in, but it would all be worth it because you would be with him again. It was wrong to think of it like that -- to overanalyze every interaction with Russell because you were so desperate for any trace of affection in his actions. Whether it be from pulling your ass out of the line of fire or crouching beside him to take cover as you stuck to the shadows.

The words you wanted to say died on your tongue when he stepped away from you, and without another word Russell walked out of the room, leaving you alone to wonder. 

\-----------

Liberation was a foreign word to you. 

The people you had been fighting alongside were cheering as the jets above flew overhead as you looked up. The night sky had never looked wonderful as it did tonight; hues of pink in the distance were beginning to settle into the dark sky, preparing to welcome the rising sun. 

Your chest heaved as a sigh was pulled from your lungs and into the air. A sigh of relief perhaps knowing that it was finally all over. Several of the people who aided the allied forces clapped you on the shoulder or back -- none of them knowing your true identity as they walked past you to gather with the remaining forces as they waited for transport. It was better this way; come later on this morning none of them would even remember who you were. 

“A job well done, I’d say.” Helen came to your side as she fixed the end of the cigarette into her mouth. “It’s going to make one fine morning.” 

“We couldn’t have done it without Lazar.” You murmured, noticing her tense at the mention of his name. 

She doesn’t say a word right away but instead inhales a deep cloud of smoke as though she were taking this moment to reflect on the man. Their flirtations hadn’t gone unnoticed by you nor the rest of the team, but it was quite obvious that Helen had been all business at first as she brushed off his little remarks. As time went on she grew bolder in matching his wit with her own and of remaining professional all the while. Something between them had given rise to something potential the moment you landed in Cuba, but as quickly as they started it ended when he was left for dead. A decision you hadn’t made lightly but in your mind, at the time Helen seemed like the logical choice. 

“I can still hear him calling my name.” Helen sighed, and the cigarette smoke followed with it. “Asking for that pint. Teasing me about my work habits.” When she turned to you it was then you noticed her look softened as she recalled some memory you did not know about. “He was always on your side, and even told Adler and I that this experiment with you was a mistake and we would regret it.” 

You're left speechless but not long before Woods and Mason come up to both you and Helen to which the MI6 agent promptly excused herself. It was just you and them now as they accompanied you to where the others stood celebrating. It was odd to see this happening and not having the right reaction to it. 

“This is what should’ve gone down when Mason and I went after Castro.” Woods gestured towards the crowds of men and women swarming the remnants of the monastery. “Bay of Pigs was a fucking disaster waiting to happen.”

Mason chuckled at that. “Our inside guys weren’t as equipped as Bell.” 

Your smile tightened at the codename. “Nothing to be proud of.” 

The two men exchanged looks with one another as you neared the rest of the team. From the corner of your eye, you noticed that Mason shook his head and before you could ask him about it Woods said, “Whatever you say teacher’s pet, but you gotta stop with the modesty. You did good.” His hand roughly squeezed your shoulder just before he and Mason joined the others. 

Rolling your shoulder, you made your way towards the cliffside upon noticing that Russell was also headed that way. You were ready for this because you know there would only be one way out of this mess you found yourself in. there would be no going back after today, and whether that meant you would be left on your own for Perseus to hunt down or thrown into some CIA prison it would have all been worth it to get your peace. The consequences didn’t matter -- all you wanted was some semblance of things going back to the way they were before all of this happened. 

Russell must’ve known you were following him because he slowed his steps to allow you to match his pace. When you matched his stride you could tell he was staying silent on purpose. It was almost as if he knew you would be taking this moment to confront him as you should have done the last two times. 

The sun was beginning to rise slowly in the far distance; its rays being hidden among the clouds in the sky as it made its slow ascent up behind the mountains. The cold air of the sea brushed against your face softly like a lover’s touch as it moved the strays of hair from your face. You could hear the click of a lighter as Russell lights up a cigarette -- taking you back to the night your facade of him ended. Almost on instinct, he hands it to you as an offering of sorts as the cigarette stayed nestled between his fingers. It’s with a hesitance you’ve become all too familiar with that made you look at him before you take it. 

The urge to smoke hadn’t been part of your programming, but in the recess of the countless memories desperate to be remembered, you can vaguely recall smoking only once. Gently, you inhale from the end as the tendrils of smoke tickle the back of your throat. As you hastily exhale the bitter taste you could see that Russell had a small smile on his lips. 

“Smoking doesn’t agree with you.” He said while plucking the cigarette from your fingers and taking a drag for himself. 

“It does warm you up though.” 

His smile is forced as he blows the smoke back out just as you two come to a stop at the cliff. The waves crashing against the rocks below was the only sound to be heard as the wind blew softly again. The cold air was nothing new to you; having endured Russia’s coldest winters has made you tolerant to the icy weather. 

One of your hands settles on the holster of your gun, and it’s a move that doesn’t escape Russell’s sharp-eyed gaze. The tension slowly begins to settle in the longer the two of you stare at one another but you won’t give him the satisfaction of even thinking he has you off guard. You followed him out for one reason and one reason only and whether he knew it or not didn’t matter. One way or another you would settle the score. 

Nevertheless, he remained calm despite having his back towards the cliff. “You’re angry but don’t let that cloud your judgment.” 

“Did you ever let your judgment get in the way when you were fucking with my mind?”

“People have to sacrifice judgment to see the bigger picture.”  
“What was that exactly!? Frying my mind to get me to cooperate to save people who don’t give a shit less about you?”

“It’s about doing the right thing! Of knowing when to make the hard calls no one bothers with.” Russell’s jaw clenches but he holds his ground even as your fingers brush against the butt of your gun. “You’re honestly gonna stand there and defend a man who’s already cut you loose? We both know he did the moment he found out about Arash back at the airfield. You’re nothing to him now. You know that.” 

It was true, and it made your blood boil to know that Russell knew you so well. Months of poking around in your mind, creating one lie after another, had allowed him to assess your personality better than any shrink could. This was merely a last-ditch effort to hold some sort of semblance of control over your own actions -- to allow yourself to feel like you were your old self again. Maybe you could’ve contacted the general beforehand to warn him of Adler and his allies -- even if by some miracle he had come it would’ve proven a point to him. To show him exactly what the general and Perseus thought of you. The time for that had come and gone though, and spending some time alone to gather your mind you realized you could’ve never willingly put so many people in danger. It didn’t matter if they knew who you were or not; your morals, the ones you had tried so hard to repress after years of being a close ally of Perseus, wouldn’t allow you to sacrifice innocent lives for nothing. 

Your general’s words were lies veiled in honey to make them tempting, but deep down perhaps you’d always known sooner or later your number would be up. The countless crimes you committed in their name never weighed on your mind because you had successfully tried to numb them with your vices, but here and now where you were left alone with your thoughts you knew you couldn’t think like that anymore. 

You licked your lips then, struggling with the feelings for Russell you knew were always there. Always lurking, taunting you with that hope that he felt the same. You remembered the feeling of his thumb pressing against the side of your mouth and how your heart fluttered on its own accord. All his doing even if he never intended for it to be that way. 

“Maybe you’re right, Russ.” Your hand settles on the butt of your gun though he makes no move to do anything about it. “But this is so much more than that.” 

“If I really wanted to, Bell--” You grimaced at the use of your codename. “--I could say those words, but as a show of good faith I won’t because I want you to know something.” He takes one last drag of the cigarette before turning towards the ocean and flicking it off the side of the cliff. “This _thing_ that’s happened between you and me, it was always for the greater good. It was never personal.” 

Before you could react you had your gun out on him while he aimed at your chest. Neither of you made a move; both on guard should the other try to take the first shot. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, pounding hard against your chest as you struggled to remain calm despite the harsh sting of his words. So many emotions ran through you as you struggled not to react so he wouldn’t see the hurt in your eyes, but somehow you knew it was already out in the open. 

You don’t react as he moved closer to where you stood even as your finger hovered over the trigger. It would’ve been so easy to shoot him now as he approached but your body refused to move. You were disarmed before you could even register what was happening as Russell’s arm snaked around and under your shoulders as he pressed you against him, forcing your hands to grab his shoulders. Once more you found yourself struggling with your emotions for him even as he had the barrel of his gun digging into your hip, and when you tried to free yourself from his hold he pushed the gun deeper in an uncomfortable angle which forced you to gasp in sudden pain.

"I meant it when I said I liked you.” Russell’s tone was stoic despite his words carrying the meaning he intended for you to understand. “I never came across an assignment where I struggled with my duty to my country.”

The gun at your side eased slightly as you peered at him; face contorted in confusion and anger as you struggled to settle on the proper emotion. The memories trickled by one by one of you and Russell sharing side glances; of you and him enjoying the quiet in each other’s company with neither one of you afraid of taking things too far. You almost laughed then when you recalled him telling you to be professional with Helen, and although the two of you danced around that flirtation, it never escalated beyond that. With Russell though, the fine line between flirting and keeping things professional often blurred. You never acting on your impulses because he was your superior and a trusted comrade in arms while you assumed it just made things awkward for him considering the situation. Maybe it was perhaps the only time he ever showed any genuine affection and consideration for he knew you weren’t completely yourself.

Russell’s eyes held your own as that same struggle was beginning to happen inside of him -- his duty and his growing feelings fighting over his judgment. His duty had always led him to complete the job at whatever the cost even if others looked at him differently after that. At this moment, he couldn’t bear to have you do the same. You didn’t know what he was feeling for you at this very moment, but you could guess your feelings for him mirrored his for you. If he wanted to end your life without hesitation he would’ve done so already.

He leaned in then as you felt his lips at your ear as the overwhelming scent of gunpowder and cigarettes filled your nostrils. “You’re the first and last, _Bell_.” You hastily move your leg to knee him in the stomach before a shot rings out.

Pain that was no stranger to you flared in your abdomen as your legs buckle underneath you. Russell slowly lowered you to the ground before you slump to the side, feeling the warmth of your blood trickle out of the bullet wound to pool underneath you. Your breathing became labored as you allowed yourself to lay there while your vision blurred. For the first time, you start to feel your body become cold and the arctic sea does little to help. One by one your memories come back as you coughed and sputtered, hoping that by some chance he had taken the opportunity to walk away. When you looked up at him, you found that Russell was nowhere to be found but you made no attempt to get up.

How easy it would be for you to just lie there and accept whatever fate had to offer. He hadn’t even bothered to stay and finish you off, perhaps hoping the rest would carry out quickly or maybe he just couldn’t stand to see you suffer. After all of this, after deciding you would be the one to decide his fate he instead stayed one step ahead of you to do what needed to be done. Where you hesitated, he acted upon it and used your lapse in judgment to gain the upper hand in this situation. That had been your mistake, letting your feelings and his words affect you led you to this.

If somehow you survived his attempt on your life you vowed you would get payback. No matter the consequences. Yet even as you lay on the grass watching the sunrise while your vision blurred through the hot tears brimming in your eyes you couldn’t help but wonder if you would get another chance. You survived one betrayal already, surely you could do the same now.

Just as you felt yourself beginning to slip into the blissful state of sleep the sound of footsteps coming towards you do little to keep you awake. The pain was becoming too much to bear even as you desperately clutched at the wound to keep yourself from bleeding out. Perhaps it was Russell coming back to finish you off for good like Arash should’ve done months ago.

The feel of a hand on the side of your neck caused your already weakening pulse to skip just below their fingertips. Another rough tug forced you onto your back as those same hands clutched at the wound you were feebly trying to suppress. Sleep came quickly as you felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness; not at all registering the fact that attempts were being made to keep you from dying pitifully on that grassy hillside.

“Oh, Bell.”

And then you surrendered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have an idea for a follow-up but once I get some cohesive thoughts in order then I'll begin to plan that! Thank you for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks as always they're greatly appreciated!


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